


Eastbound and Down

by romanticalgirl



Series: Holiday Ficlets 2005 [11]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 11-28-05</p>
    </blockquote>





	Eastbound and Down

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 11-28-05

Doug looks up from his book as the shadow settles over him. He dropped his book to his chest and crooked his arm over his head. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He watches her bit her lower lip and smiles, echoes of Pacey waxing rhapsodic about her little sister doing the same thing and turning his insides to jelly filtering through his head as his own insides turn. “What brings you to my neck of the woods? Because if it’s a crime, I’m off duty.” 

“What if I was coming here to turn myself in?”

“What laws have you broken lately, Bessie Potter?” He sits up, letting his book fall away forgotten. “Besides getting prettier every day.”

“Oh my.” She shakes her head and smiles at him. “Your folksy sheriff routine is getting frighteningly good. Are you thinking of letting yourself go so you can get a beer belly and maybe chew on a cigar?”

“Do you think it would make me sexier? Tell me the truth.” He reaches out and presses his hand lightly against her stomach. “Or should I just grow a nice seventies era Burt Reynolds moustache?”

“Can I call you Bandit?”

He gets to his feet, closer to her than he should be to a woman with a kid and a man who’s close enough to be her husband. “Only if I’m buried between your thighs.”

She smiles and grabs a fistful of his t-shirt. “Well then, let’s just watch old Bandit run.”

**

He knows her body in ways no one else does – ways that come of years of touching and tasting. She’s smooth and silky skin though her hands are slightly rough from years of work and she has a soft breath that lets him know she’s tired, always tired. 

He kisses her as soon as the door is closed, hands framing her face and holding her still. She freezes in his touch every time, that first magical, unbelieving moment when they’re alone and they’re 16 again, doing this for the very first time.

He trails his fingers down her neck as he explores her mouth, feeling the heavy beat of her pulse and the slick warmth of her skin. He moves his mouth to follow his hand as he tugs the strap of her tank top aside and exposes more flesh, tasting every inch of it. She sighs and stirs his hair and he guides the strap off her other shoulder, bringing the fabric down to the top swell of her breasts. 

She backs away from him with a smile and tugs her straps back up, but only long enough to pull the shirt over her head. She’s not wearing a bra and her breasts are high and firm though he’s traced the silver marks that came with pregnancy and breastfeeding and knows she’s not 16 any more. If anything, the thought arouses him even more and he follows her to his bedroom, up the narrow staircase that she decorates with her khaki shorts and the pale lilac underwear as she strips. 

Tugging his T-shirt over his head, he lets it fall in his wake as he climbs, shedding his own shorts and boxers just outside the bedroom door. She’s on his bed waiting for him, propped up on her elbows, her breasts high, her legs spread slightly, her mouth in a smile that’s his favorite curve of all.

He doesn’t say a word as he kneels on the end of the bed and pushes her legs apart, inching up her body with purpose. The first time he did this, he’d misjudged his position, his knee had slipped off the bed and he’d ended up with a bloody lip. This time he slides his hands under her legs and eases between them, inhaling the sharp scent of her as he slides his tongue between the folds of slick flesh.

Bessie gasps and arches against him, her body edging closer as she lays back on the bed. He slides his tongue over her clit and feels her body contract around him then does it again, slower, harder. She makes a sound he hears with his nerves and they fire, his cock growing harder as he presses it against the mattress and presses his tongue against her again. His hands slide higher and he squeezes the flesh of her ass as he lets his tongue wreak havoc over her clit, teasing it until she’s pulled light a taut wire around him. He slips his tongue inside her and then replaces it with two fingers just in time to meet the heavy rush of her orgasm. 

She undulates around him, her body rolling against his hand, his tongue, his shoulders. He pulls away and smiles, licking the taste of her off his lips as he crawls up her body, licking and kissing his way up over the silky, slick flesh until he finds her mouth and sucks on her tongue and pushes his cock deep inside her.

They move together in a easy rhythm that they fall into without thought. He touches her and she touches him and it’s new and different even though it’s the same. He notes changes in her body – her hair is shorter, she’s lost some weight – and he notes the things that are still the same – her body closes around him and she locks her legs around him and she’s still tight and hot and his. His mouth moves over her neck and kisses it, bites it gently until she cries out and comes again as he buries himself inside her as he comes.

**

They lay there afterwards, tangled together on his sheets. “I should go.”

“You never did tell me why you showed up on my doorstep.”

“It wasn’t your doorstep.” She turns over and smiles at him. “It was your back yard.”

“Semantics.”

“I have to go.” She pulls away from him and moves to the door, smiling back at him over her shoulder. “See ya next run, Bandit.”

He nods and watches her with the same eyes that watched her crawl out of his bedroom window over 10 years ago. “I love you, Bess.”

Her smile widens and she shakes her head, disappearing from view.


End file.
